The Unintentional Bunny Spawner
by strijon
Summary: A collection of one-shots for you, a plot bunny spawner for me. T for minor(ish) swearing, and possible violence. Fed with any sort of prompt. Mostly youtubers, and a few OCs.
1. Shattered

** Errr...Well, this is awkward. I'll let you know why I am starting this: I have a secret collection of goals hidden in my Notes on my iPad...Two of those goals, "Have the courage to write a fanfic, even if just a one-shot, about Youtubers" (I've wanted to do one, but so nervous I'll get every single fact wrong about them), and "Write a story filled with one-shots". Coldstone4815 and NerdCraftMC have given me drive to do this thang! Special thanks to them, as well as mah peops back at DA (I love ya guys ;3)**

** Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll suck .~. Who knows. Because. I'm really nervous with this whole youtuber thing, but I just really want to try it out. Not all one-shots will be youtubers, there will be my OCs mixed into there. Argh. I feel so nervous about this.**

* * *

Mitch fiddled with the dog tag around his neck, as he looked out towards the playground. The same playground they all used to play on, together.

What had happened to the once cheerful group, filled with joking, occasional (somewhat) friendly squabbles, doing Minigames together, and in general, having fun?

Was it the fame, as the name 'Team Crafted' spread out to the farthest reaches of Minecraftia?

* * *

_Sky grinned, looking out at the group of friends. "Guys. Our complete win in the Hunger Games has done things for us. We're getting noticed." The nine of them looked up at the self-designated leader, each wearing a similar smile. Two were remarkably sullen, though, given the situation._

_ "But is it fame we really want? We'll lose sight of being just friends..." Seto called out._

_ Mitch sighed, "Dude, we'll never stop being friends. Talk about doubts." At that time, he didn't realize that one small statement would start cracking the team apart, like a fissure._

_ "Okay." Seto replied, casting a glance towards a particularly interesting wall._

_ Far into the night, the group discussed how they could possibly enhance their fame as much as possible. Ideas ranged from seeking business opportunities from mining and Minigames companies, while others involved accentuating certain aspects of each member, such as budder-loving/squid-hating Sky, and Betty-weilding Jerome._

_ A few of them were uncomfortable with the idea of it. Because they knew that would turn each and every one of the childhood friends into people defined by fame._

* * *

Was it the fact that slowly, a few certain members started going their own ways, to take their own path?

* * *

_Kermit looked slightly shaky, as he took in a deep breath, and looked at each of the members of Team Crafted._

_"Why so sullen?" Jason said, teasing the frog._

_Kermit stared him straight in the eye, or at least his visor, "Guys. I'm leaving."_

_A blanket of silence veiled the room, broken only by the sound of Husky's dropped glass shattering. "You've gotta be shitting me.", Husky said, snorting._

_The frog shook his head solemnly. "I want to go solo, guys. I'm one of the least popular people." Seto winced at this part, as if he himself was harbor in a few doubts. "I feel like I'm just leeching off you. I need to spread my own wings and fly."_

_"You aren't a damn angel, Kermit." Jerome said, slamming a glass of water onto the table. "But if it's your own wish, then just leave."_

_"I've already packed..." Kermit whispered. Only Ty heard him say this last part, and his red eyes showed regret._

_"What have we become..." Ty muttered. Seto turned towards Ty, giving him a slight nod, apparently having heard him, and agreeing._

The fact that they would reject even the closest of friends, just for money?

_"Where the hell is Seto?" Sky said, scowling, "The meeting was supposed to start 10 minutes ago..."_

_Mitch rolled his eyes, "Too absorbed in his magical studies, I bet. I really don't think he's even acting like part of the team anymore."_

_"You do have a fair point. Plus, what about when he gets too powerful. He eventually will." Ian said, narrowing his eyes behind his sunglasses._

_There were murmurs of agreement from around the table. Husky spoke up above the whispers of personal conversations, "He doesn't even live in the team house! Just some weird sorcerer tower in the middle of nowhere!"_

_Mitch looked at the light of fire in each of their eyes, Ty not included, and whispered the sentence that would sink the team so far into the hole they'd dug, that they couldn't get out. "He'll slow down our path to stardom...Vote to kick him out?" Each of them hesitantly put up their hand, all except Ty, who gave each member an individual glare._

_Ty stood up, his chair making a dissonant screeching noise as his chair got pushed back. "He's our friend! Who cares about fame, now! Of all the people in this group, he was the one who was willing to sacrifice so much, just to keep us together. And you return that with this? We've lost sight of what this group is about for crying out loud." He sat down, crossing his arms over his chest._

_The next words decided it once and for all. "Majority rules. Seto is no longer a member of this team." Sky spoke, in a cold voice, ignoring what Ty had said prior to him speaking._

_What they didn't know was that Seto had been fighting for his life the past week, trying to conquer the illness that had taken place in him since he tampered with something that was meant to be left alone._

* * *

God, what had happen to them?

Sky now was a warrior, who sought only to see the inky blood of the squid on his hand. He always did take the roleplaying too far. So far that he had driven himself to hate a minor threat.

Ty now spent his time making music for big record companies. He always did treasure those headphones. Even when they all were still good friends, they never knew what kind of music was playing through that headset.

Jason had started to lock himself in his house, seperate from the now-abandoned TC house, trying to make it back to the stars, where he thought he belonged. Nobody ever bothered to ask him about his past. All they knew was that he crashed down to Minecraftia on a rock, while Sky and Ty were at the playground at the young age of five.

Seto had disappeared from the world, without the team even being able to inform him of his new status on the team. For all they knew, he could be dead. It was where Seto ended up, that Mitch worried about the most.

Husky had tried to find more of his kind, after he was informed that there were survivors from the genocide of the Pixelmon species. The group never did think about how he felt knowing there was no one else like him. All they did was call him a fish, which just pissed him off.

Mitch had heard rumors that Kermit had joined a lesser-known group, and was not seen very often these days. Team MVG, he had heard, a team that was slowly rising and getting more fame.

Ssundee found a new job, as a warden in a prison. It was no longer just a fun game of Cops and Robbers for him. Mitch had a feeling that Ian, being closest to old memories, was probably getting affected the worst.

Finally, Mitch and Jerome were still close friends, and lived together, but that was it.

But other than the two, each and every single of them stopped contacting each other. They no longer were. The final announcement of the team's breakup had shattered the hearts of many fans. Some fans blew up at the mention of that team. Others continued to think of them as a team, even writing fanfiction involving them inside this weird game called "Earthscape" that they used to play. Others didn't even care.

Mitch had been glared at in the streets, mocked, attacked. It became so bad that he had to retreat to the jungle around the team's old childhood town, but it was good knowing that at least Jerome enjoyed being somewhere he knew.

What once was had become brutally cracked, a mirror so shattered you couldn't even see a reflection of what once was the team. Quite sad, but Mitch knew that there was no going back.

* * *

**I warn you, I may use YT names for some characters, but real names for others. Or MC IGNs. Or just plain flip flop.**

**I hardly see fanfics about a completely broken-up TC. So I thought I'd do this. Hope ya enjoyed. So nervous just posting this T^T I dunno how this makes me feel. I now have two plot bunnies, because of this, though, literally leaping and bounding before me. God, the pain already hurts. Is this going to happen every time I write a one-shot? Because every time a write a one-shot, a new bunny is given birth. And the problem is I'm in the process of writing two fanfics. Which is also why I won't be posting very often on this. God, but I have to write them...Gaaaah! This inner turmoil. Oh, and look. So many ideas for one-shots, but I can't write them due to a certain 'reason'...**

**I'm not going to say my usual review thingy, because I am scared shitless prior to posting this, and I'm not sure if I want to hear what you have to say xD Erm...Send in prompts, I guess? Also, yeah. If you haven't noticed already. I will swear if I feel it's natural.**


	2. Treat Others

Seto coughed, covering his mouth with his sleeve. He winced as he saw flecks of red on his favorite outfit.

Well, it was bound to happen sometime. He had tried magic far above his calibre, in an attempt to bring back life to his now-shriveled roses. Doing something like that could very well kill a person, and he was extremely lucky he only got off with some sort of condition that sought permanency in his body.

At this rate, however, it seemed as if he was going to end up with his life being claimed by death, with no chance of revival like what would happen in minigames. He should have known that necromancy of any sort, including simplistic forms, would be too much for him. If only he wasn't so over-confident in his skill.

Seto looked up at the clock, wondering how long this sickness had kept him glued to his bed, because of his unwillingness to get up and eat anything. _3:00PM._ A good five days and thirteen hours. He always was the kind who didn't care about sleep, and preferred using it to perfect skills.

_Crap. Wasn't the Team Crafted meeting supposed to be happening right now? Oh well_, he thought, _I'm sure they'd understand my current...Predicament._

Why hadn't they bothered to check up on him, though? He frowned, glaring up at the roof. He had been holed up in his house for so long, and he hadn't received as much as a phone call from anyone he knew. One would think his friends would realize something was wrong, but clearly, that wasn't the case with this particular group.

_Ding-dong._ The bell rang, and Seto thrusted out his hand towards the door, making an unlocking motion with it. Funny that this finally occurred when he thought about not being contacted at all.

Now, he was quite glad he could still use his powers, due to his magical self having already recovered. Unfortunately, his physical form was exhausted, and likely to wither away to nothing.

As the soft pitter patter of someone's steps got progressively louder, it had just occurred to Seto that there could be a murderer about to kill him. Or an overly obsessive fangirl (Which he didn't get much of, considering his lack of importance in the Team Crafted ranks.)

He was relieved as he heard a familiar voice speak, "Seto?" Why weren't they with the rest of the team?

"Over here." Seto whispered, his voice raspy from the lack of speaking recently. He glanced over at the door, seeing a glint of green from Ty's headphones.

Ty's crimson red eyes widened at the sight of the bed-ridden Seto, and was quick to speak. "Holy crap, man, what happened? You look...Dead."

Seto let out a soft chuckle, muttering, "Thanks for pointing that our. Over-expended my magical capabilities, and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to die." Ty's eyes became filled with guilt, as he sat down on the bend.

"Oh, um...Well, look..." Ty started. He paused, opening his mouth to continue on, before clamping his mouth shut. Seto raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" Seto questioned. He ignored the fact that Ty didn't comment on how Seto thought he'd die. Clearly, it was something bad, if it left Ty that wordless.

He could hear a rhythmic tap as Ty nervously rapped his fingers on his knee. "Well you sort of, might have, maybe gotten kicked out of Team Crafted because you went off the radar and other reasons, and I tried to stop it but everybody else voted you out and there was noth-."

"Can you get me some water?" Seto said in a steely voice. Ty left, not speaking another word, to get Seto a glass of water. Seto was grateful that Ty realized he needed a moment to himself. And he was going to use that short moment to his advantage.

He got up out of his bed in the first time for five days, and hobbled over to his closet, getting out a pack. Always good to be prepared for an unexpected journey, right? Especially with how much Seto had to journey to Apocethary three towns over for ingredients, especially with his seclusion in a forest.

He thought about leaving without another word, but thought otherwise. He heard water being dispensed from his fridge, as Ty was filling the cup of water. He had to be quick. Seto took out a sheet of paper which was neatly placed in a stack on his desk, and wrote in a scrawly font, "No use staying around here. Going to go journey somewhere, and practice my awesome sorcererness. Don't bother telling Team Crafted I've gone. They don't deserve that knowledge. -Seto"

He quickly leapt out of his window, as he heard Ty entering the hallway, collapsing into a coughing fit as he hit the ground. He dashed away, not caring about his physical health. Notch knows what would happen if Ty followed him.

In Seto's mind, Minecraftia's education system had failed to teach Team Crafted the message, "Treat others the way you want to be treated," especially towards friends. He realized it would be useless to try to make amends with them.

* * *

**I finished this one a week ago, but it was on paper for a long time because my sister refused to hand me my iPad. And then I was too lazy to type it up :l**

**Right now, my house is completely turned over, because we're all last minute preparing for a ten day trip to Arizona. Ants are taking over, my mom is hella cranky, and my sister thinks it's too hot, so she's walking around the house with just a bra on .-. There's been a lack of writing, and will continue to be a lack of for a while T_T**

**Plus, I kinda got re-addicted to a Minecraft server I used to play on a LOT.**

**I kinda teared up writing this (Very rare for me), because it's based on a good online friend of mine's :l Especially writing that last part, because it those were words I paraphrased from them...**

**Also. s_arillen_, I was a bit sad writing it :( And _hghrules_, I was actually really happy when I read that you felt the feels. That was a first for me ;3 Much compliment T~T Also, IBMEC/DTDT...Brilliant.**

**Also, one of those plot bunnies is becoming rabid. Save me, plz x.x So. Rabid.**

**Alright, my muffins, see you next time! Do bother to leave a review, and damn, this A/N be long :l I like to talk, I guess x3 Man, moments like these I wish I had a twitter, so at least one person could hear me randomly tell someone about my life. But what would be the use of it? I don't even understand how it works x,x Someone, teach meh. Okay. Rambling again.**


	3. Bubbles

Mitch liked bubble baths. Well, like was an understatement. More like it was his personal addiction.

Quite honestly, he never really did shower. Most of his friends just guessed that the reason he tended to stink a bit more than a normal human was because he hanged out with Jerome quite a bit (I mean, you know how Baccas can stink, right?), but really, it was the fact that he bathed in his own filth on an almost daily basis.

He was lucky he was rich, because the brand of bubble soap he used required a special form of packed ice that could only be found in a mountain range past Miner's Point. Suffice to say, he ran through the stuff quickly, and considering that a bottle of the stuff cost a good half a stack of emeralds per, which was as good as a recipe for bankruptcy.

Okay, so Mitch had to admit, part of the reason he loved the Hunger Games so much was because it gave him a more valid reason to take a bubble bath, considering his clothes would be soaked with blood by the end of a single game. (Unfortunately, that was one of the things that Minigames would not reset, damage done to personal belongings.)

Seeing the bubbles swirl around him, clinging to his body, the relaxing feel as he felt like he floated on air, and naturally, making himself a foam beard was too much to _not_ do it routinely.

Unfortunately, a good portion of the world didn't agree with him. Well, particularly two (or three, depending on how you thought of it) of the species in the house didn't agree with him.

First of all, there was Jerome.

When the Bacca had questioned why Team Crafted had a bathtub in their house, the whole house had started to erupt into fights about all kinds of things.

_"Hey, guys? Why do we have the, ehm...Bathtub again? I'm pretty sure no one uses it." Jerome said, not noticing the glare Mitch shot him._

_Sky glanced up, knife and fork hanging in the air, as he swallowed the steak in his mouth. "It came with the mansion. I personally don't like to use it, because of a particularly...Life-threatening situation involving bubbles." He finished off his sentence with an awkward cough, and looked to the side._

_Ian almost choked on his food, because of laughter. "Bubbles? Of all things, bubbles? Bubbles prevent you from experiencing the wonderful thing called a bubble bath? Do you even realize that there's also something called a regular bath?" Mitch mumbled in agreement._

_Husky took his turn to speak up, "Now I don't know what Jerome might have a problem with, but as a Mudkip," Husky glared at Seto, who had stopped over for a meal, calling him a certain term that he didn't like. Seto looked down in shame, as he continued on. "As I was saying, I do prefer to cleanse myself in the wonderful swamp waters that lie just above Sand City."_

_Jason snorted, "Is that why you tend to stink a little? Just because of a personal preference requiring a location that's a good half a thousand blocks away?"_

_"Oi! Watch it, spaceman!" Husky raised his voice, feeling undignified at the small flaw in his usual routine that he had pointed out._

_A chair screeched as Jason stood, up. "I am not a spa-!" Jason said, shouting, before abruptly sitting down, and picking at his food. The people at the table gave him an odd glance, before resuming to the conversation at hand._

_Mitch finally took his turn to express his personal opinion on the matter. "I think baths are one of the best things in the world, and there isn't anything that is going to change what I think about that."_

_"Hey, we all have our own viewpoints." Seto said with a shrug, returning back to his meal. Seto was probably the most intelligent of the group, having been exposed to knowledge at a young age._

_"Well, if you were a Bacca, you'd know that we don't like showers, because they're unnatural. Baths are like a thousand times worse, the epitome of abnormality." Jerome said, slightly glaring at his best friend since childhood._

_"They aren't that bad, at least for your fellow humans." Ty scoffed, before realizing exactly what Jerome had said. "Wait, are you saying you're literally a pile of walking filth?" He started to giggle uncontrollably, as if he had his own little personal joke. A good minute had past before he finally recollected himself._

_"One, why do you think I keep visiting that one nearby mountain with the best waterfall ever, and two, I think I'm pretty damn human." He always was sensitive about how he had a bit more fur than the others, and the fact that he wasn't actually human._

_Ian scoffed, "Dude, you literally just admitted your Baccaness just two minutes before."_

_The group continued to fight on through the night, about differences in species, baths, magical restriction laws, the best icecream flavors, and many more things. Not a single person in Team Crafted was not enraged by the time they went into their rooms, apart from the calm and collected Seto who merely left to his home in a forest, whistling a merry tune._

Mitch sank into the bubbles swarming around him, letting out a sigh. It didn't matter what anybody else thought. He would always continue to love baths, particularly those involving bubbles. There wasn't anything that was going to stop him, except for an extremely dangerous death threat.

* * *

**Oh my god. I don't even know what I wrote. Let's just say my inspiration for this was a bubble bath I had in the most amazing hotel in Alaska. Which I still am in o,o Funny story how we came to be here, if you're really curious then just PM.**

**I really like the scene where they fought a lil' bit...Though that practically is the one-shot xD**

**So I have lots prepared to write in this, some stuff I'm eager to write, some stuff that is half-written at this point in time, etc. The next thing going up here will be posted AFTER I get to writing the next chapter of Together Through Yonder (Debating to rename it Woven Threads...), and there's a little hint as to what it's about in this...Teehee. Good luck finding it.**

**Anyway, don't forget to review my lil' muffins ;3 (Too much effort to type in FSCP. Too much.) This one-shot was light and happy ^~^ To some extent...**


	4. Earth

"I am not a spa-" Jason shouted, before abruptly sitting down and picking at his food.

They would never know. They couldn't know. If they ever did know, it would be close to disastrous.

To say the fate of the world rested in the palm of his hand was just about right. Give or take the part about its fate.

In all technicality, he wasn't even living.

It all really started when the human civilization started to pick up, and became systematic. A system of trading, of currency, of transport, even of fun. Around the time when the Earth was shaping up into something that would then be dubbed a new name.

Minecraftia.

If you managed to sneak a peek at what Jason really looked like underneath, you wouldn't see human flesh. You wouldn't see fur, or scales. You wouldn't even see the sickly gray skin of a wither.

What you would see, however, is the crumbly texture of soil. Specks of grass as hair, and veins of water rather than blood. The most shocking of all, however, would be deep gray and smoky eyes, resembling the void. Eyes that one could get lost in forever.

Of course, no one would ever see his secret. It was safely hidden away with a set of clothing that had made his origin quite so very debatable. Of course, considering the fact that it was a spacesuit he wore, Jason was thought of as alien.

But that's not even close to what's true. If anything, he was the one person most native to Earth. The one that knew that behind all the rubble, and the artificiality of it all, there was something that could be beautiful, and hold so much life.

To say he yearned for space was a lie. He wanted nothing to do with it, if it meant being torn from the one place that was home for him.

To say he had a home away from Earth, or Minecraftia as many knew it, was a lie. All he really had was this place, just like each and every one of the people he knew.

To say he never wanted to just go and tell someone his situation? That was probably the biggest lie of all.

So, yeah, the truth is that Jason is the spirit of the Earth, as it started to die, and turn into the paved streets of Minecraftia, lacking in true life.

Who knew that even Earth had it's own survival instincts?

* * *

**What. The hell. Did I just write o,o I think I'm going to stick with this version of Jason...I like it. Unique. Super thanks to KKKStories for the prompt ;3 Too long to put down here *-***

**Erm...I hope that satisfies you, KKK. It was a bit...Odd to write. I had literally no other way to write this because of the sheer uniqueness xD One day, I'm going to go back and rewrite this. I'm not exactly...Satisfied. Short, a bit hard to follow, and doesn't get it's point across, in my opinion.**

**Also, omg. Tomorrow it'll be my six month anniversary since I posted my first fanfiction on this website! And I am not going to have wi-fi :l Well that sucks. And I don't have anything to do for it. Oh well ;3 I'm just very happy.**


	5. Vanished

Celeste turned a corner of the building, chuckling in amusement as she saw a villager hollering at the busy city of Minecraftia in an attempt to sell a pair of leather leggings. She walked up to him, and tossed out three emeralds towards him, and a book and quill, snatching away the leggings.

She smirked at the bewildered face on the villager, and couldn't wait to see their reaction when they read the message, _"Why so nosy?"_. It's not like they would ever figure out who exactly had completed the trade offer.

Sure, she was just a normal civilian in Minecraftia, but one thing was off about her. No one would ever notice it, considering they couldn't even see her.

That's right, ever since she was fifteen years old, she randomly vanished, due to a permanent invisible effect cast onto her. She could never figure it out, and knew it was pointless trying to, so she merely enjoyed life doing slightly criminal acts (For example, you were not allowed to make a trade without confirming it with the other party), and spooking people.

Sure, it could get boring, but after four or five years, it was pretty much routine for her.

What else could you do if no one could see you? Celeste thought back to a book she read as a child, by an author called something "Andrew Clements" that illustrated her current predicament quite well, albeit if it was set in a completely different universe.

While she was lost in our thoughts, she bumped into a figure with a black sweater on, their hood up, and their head down. She shrugged, knowing they would think it was somebody random in the bustling city of Miner's Point, and merely continued walking.

What Celeste didn't expect was for the person to yank her by her arm towards an alley right next to the two.

The hood of the person who had kidnapped her tumbled off, and her eyes widened as she looked at the boy. He bended down onto his knees, clutching his stomach with laughter, as he wiped away a tear. Celeste saw the well-known face of Mitch, or TheBajanCanadian, one of the higher-ups in governmental power because of the influence he had on people through the fame he had gained through a social networking website, YouTube.

"Are you kidding me?" Mitch said, bursting out into another fit of laughter. "You seriously. Oh, wow."

Celeste blinked her eyes once, and then twice, not sure how exactly he could see her. "I seriously what." She said, her voice dull with a lack of speaking the past few years.

He grinned, "Quick. Your name."

"Celeste."

He rubbed his hands together, and she stopped to wonder what the nether he was planning on doing. "Slash realname Celeste." He stopped to nod, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Slash vanish CelesticKlutz." She widened her eyes at how he knew her Minigame name.

"What did you. Do?" Celeste spoke, her voice wavering.

"Ah, merely turned vanished off for ya. That was one cruel prank that no OP should pull." Mitch turned around, waving her off, and putting his hood back on.

* * *

**I admit. I thought of that on the toilet :l Something along the lines of, "What if I'm sitting on an invisible person? o.O" Hehe.**

**Also, there's a few concepts not explained in my AUs in this. They're explained in another book. Which I haven't posted yet, nor am I planning to...I might write something to remove confusion.**

**I made a Twitter cause wynaut. 6 month anniversary gift. OpalShining (With dat at), if you really love me that much?**

**I'm home from Alaska. Home sweet home.**

**Short, because I have a few one-shots like half-written. And two like complete, but one is on my crappy phone, the other I'm not ready to post yet.**

**Requesting prompts as always, and willing to take your feedback! I honestly am disappointed in this. I've been off my A-game recently. Not that I have an A-game :l**


	6. Forest

Jerome took in a healthy lungful of breath, grinning at the expanse of forest beneath the hardwood floor of his treehouse mounted in a jungle tree. Such a lively green, with so much color.

It was hard to find areas like this these days, especially since there was no longer areas like the Wilderness, an area from Minecraftia decades before present times. Though Jerome wasn't alive at that time, he always loved the thought of a whole section almost completely untouched by human hands.

Of course, there was no longer any of that around. Jerome was lucky enough that he was able to save an area with his fame by protesting, and even luckier that it was near his old home. It would always be around forever.

Jerome's ears perked up, and his eyes zoomed in at Mitch running towards his house, waving his hands and hollering something. The Bacca quickly leapt out of the tree, landing with hardly a sound behind Mitch. A simple feat for a Survival Games champion.

"What's the problem? We haven't got any games planned, do we?" Jerome asked, quirking his head to the side. Mitch and Jerome didn't talk too often, ever since Team Crafted had broken up.

Mitch shook his head frantically, taking in a deep breath. "They're destroying the forest tomorrow for more building space, and materials! Apparently because you've lost all—I mean most—of your fame! They won't get in much trouble because no one wants this place to stay!" Mitch wildly made hand gestures, clearly in a state of panic.

It wasn't bad as Jerome's state, however. His mouth was wide open, forming an O, and his eyes were stretched wide. He quickly proceeded to climb up the vines that formed the entrance to his house, and yanked Betty out of an item frame.

He examined the finely carved wooden handle, and the pristine shimmer of her diamond blade, letting out a shuddering breath.

He returned back down, and was confused at why Mitch was gawking at him.

"Dude. We can't chop them up. They have bulldozers, and that'll only succeed in them wanting to take it down even more." Jerome dropped the axe onto the shaded forest floor, sitting down in defeat.

Jerome growled from his position, "Then what can we do? There are hardly anymore of my kind to support us, we can't attack them, and I doubt they'd listen to two teenagers who hardly know anything. It's hopeless."

Mitch turned his back away from the figure slumped on the ground, and kicked a tree. "Jerome. One, we aren't teenagers. We're like, twenty."

"So?" Jerome hissed, looking up at him. "We're as good as teens, considering we dropped our education for an opportunity at recording fame."

Mitch continued on, ignoring his statement, his tone blank from emotion. "Two, has it ever occurred to us that just because Team Crafted is over, doesn't mean that people won't look at our recordings? We could easily protest."

Jerome had nothing to say to that, and Mitch himself was surprised he never thought of it himself.

"And three. Just because the team is gone doesn't mean we can't stay in contact with the others." Jerome got up, and dusted off his suit, which he'd taken a liking to, even though it was once a ploy to get a bit more fame.

"Okay."

* * *

**I. I like this. I just like writing fight scenes for some reason. I'm going to write a short second part to this later xD Might make it seperate or just update the chapter, when I feel like writing it. *Chuckles nervously***

**Also, if you sent me a prompt, I don't do them immediately, but you should still send them in ;D ANY Youtuber, I will take the time to familiarize myself with them just a bit. Maybe even an OC prompt. I like to have something to write, or else I won't update, if you haven't...Noticed already...I'm not good with schedules ^_^ Just a procastinating child.**

**Finally, dang. This story has half as many views as Woven Threads already, and more reviews, favorites, and follows...I think that's a good thing...:D? Thanks for showing all dat appreciation to it, though *Insert less than sign that fanfiction doesn't let me do*3**


	7. Iansanity

**This particular one-shot is based off a single sentence in the first one-shot .-. That's right, just one. I'll leave it to you to guess which one that is xD**

* * *

Ssundee scowled at the wall. There was nothing to do in this god-forsaken prison, except watch the prisoners look up at the wall blankly.

Now, his job as a warden in this new prison was nothing like the fun and games of Cops and Robbers. Quite honestly, he himself felt like a prisoner. He stared at a wall. They stared at a wall. Really accurate, if you thought about it.

Why had he applied for this job anyway? All he ever did was think, and lug around the prisoners to showers. Plus, it wasn't like they ever did anything out of the ordinary. If they rebelled, they were as good as dead. They knew they were up against one of the famous (Or infamous? He could never really tell these days.) members of Team Crafted.

Team Crafted. Team Crafted. Team Crafted. The phrase reverberated through the deepest corners of his mind, and settled there, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

Would there possibly be a way to stop what had happened? No, Ssundee thought, That's like one thing that would probably not change no matter what.

It was like it was meant to be, no matter what. He just had this small feeling in him that nothing could ever change what had fated them.

He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. Why was this so funny to him? The day they finally snapped apart probably gave him a scar or two of his own. Certainly not a laughin matter. But now matter how hard he tried, he started to laugh harder and harder, until his face was red, and his conscience started to waver.

His eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and he clamped his hands to his head. He could feel the gaze of the prisoners, as they sat upright, and tried to figure out what was going on with their warden. Or rather, whether they could finally get sweet freedom.

_ There's no point in trying anymore... A voice whispered into his ear._

_ Just let go, release it..._

_ Don't hold back. Lay wreck to this world..._

Ian let out a guttural scream, feeling tears swarm to his eyes. Why now? he thought, I'd been keeping it up for years. Years and years and years, with only a single triggering factor. Tears poured out of his eyes, as he slumped up onto a wall, oand wept.

Wept for what was and what is and what would be.

He knew why it was happening though. He knew why, because it was one really big thing that could lead any person into insanity.

The world slowly ebbed away into a flat, pasty gray color.

Yeah, he might've let a few murderers out, but there was nothing he could do to stop the Iansanity.

"D-do you know w-what I did to make this cake..."

* * *

**I just had to say Iansanity. Sorry. :l I just had too. Too punny to resist the temptation. Oh, good lord. This has been written for 3 weeks. Too nervous to post, I guess?**

**I'm bad at writing long things :P**


	8. Possession

TUBS Virus

Circuit-like veins slowly pulsated on his face, a soft and subtle purple. His breath was heavy and shallow as he attempted to fight off the demon.

The boy was clearly fighting the losing side, as his body was slumped up against a wall. He was slowly drifting into unconsciousness, and nothing would stop him from doing so, except for a single force trying to control him.

It was strange, really. The area around him was scattered with shattered glass and overturned furniture, due to the two fighting a bloody battle that was nearing it's end, but only one person was visible in the area. Strange, but crazier things have happened in the odd world. People being turned into squids, even if squids were their sole hatred, people having clones from an evil dimension, and so much more.

A pair of purple shades lay limp in his hands, visibly cracked beyond repair. The damage was quite obviously from whatever battle he was fighting. There was not a single way that the damage could be from daily life, unless the person was a complete klutz.

The boy's head suddenly snapped up, his eyes glowing a violently bright and unnatural blue, and an inhumane chuckle was released forcefully from his throat. "Ah, dearest Jordan, your nightmare is back, no? Well I should think that's a good thing. At least for me."

The person continued speaking through his body, knowing that he couldn't possibly control his other side, hidden to the world, by now. "You shouldn't have talked to that sorcerer and got those purple shades made. Maybe then I wouldn't be more keen on destroying all you have. One. Step. At a time.

"Because I know you really wouldn't want that to happen. Oh, I can imagine the pain you'll have from watching me do it. I know that's what you fear, the loss of all you've built up without me. And you were doing so well, too. I've been watching.

"But hey, now those damn shades are destroyed, and I doubt you'll be able to find that purple cloak dude. I've been searching around through the electronics of Minecraftia, clever, clever me. I have more influence then you could possibly think. Last sorcerer here, and he went and disappeared." The other side of Jordan snorted, "Stupid little idiot.

"Wow, this sounds so much like a monologue. Well, it is. I am talking to myself. But sheesh, I haven't used this throat in so long. Anyway, enough of that." The now-possessed body stood up, and smirked. "I can literally hear your cries for release. No chance of that."

Suddenly, hands grasped at his throat, and the neon blue coloring in his eyes slowly faded away. "Never…", he choked out, running through the dark hallways of his apartment building, knowing he didn't have much time to waste.

Jordan sighed in relief when he saw all of his recording software set up. He took three minutes to set everything up, occasionally wincing at the monster inside, trying to break out. He started the recording, and spoke quickly. "If you see me…Kill me on sight. Please."

Just four more minutes, he thought, waiting for the short video to render so he could upload it to the oh-so popular website YouTube. He grinned as he hit a single button, letting out a broadcast for all who knew him to hear.

Despite him completing what he wanted to do, Jordan stepped backward, hitting a wall, slowly sliding into a position where his hands wrapped around his knees, where his head dejectedly lay.

It wouldn't change anything in the long run. Only protect those he knew, and that was if they ever saw it. What about the others who knew not a smidgen about him? It wasn't like he had that much of an influence, unlike all those soaring in the skies with fame.

He sighed as he felt the control in his left arm fade to nothing, and the amount of control he had over his left side of his body was only equal to zero.

"Pray he doesn't kill." He said, whispering out his last words.

* * *

**Okay, obviously it's a YouTuber. But which YouTuber? So many Jordan's. Like if you get it, kudos to you. He's literally the only YouTuber I actually watch. Aside from a certain crew of Bulgarians. Which is why I have so few references in my stuff ;3 I don't actually watch dem people.**

**Also—to my humans/dragons/creatures out there who update on a good schedule—tell me yo' secret ;-; I can't keep a schedule :/ For any of my stories.**


	9. Forest II

**Continuation of Forest (See Chapter 6).**

* * *

"Okay. I disappeared for a good seven months. My apologies." Jerome stared straight into the camera, and thought about what to say next, a pensive look on his face. "I honestly have no right to ask you guys that have been hoping for something from me for a while, but I'll do it anyway, because this means so much to me."

The bacca looked to the side, glancing at his best friend. Mitch motioned at him to continue on, and he trained his focus back on the device in front of him.

"I'm sure you guys remembered that time I worked to protest against the forest getting destroyed. Yeah, well for some reason, that no longer accounts for anything." Jerome winced, awkwardly glancing down at the ground, before his head rocketed back up, because of Mitch snapping his fingers at him. "Anyway, this forest I've lived in since childhood? Getting taken down.

"So what I'm asking is that you try to protest in any way, shape, or form. I really don't know, as Mitch kind of put me up to this..." Jerome stopped to glare at Mitch, before smiling slightly after remembering what Mitch was trying to achieve. "But yeah. Reward, if we do manage it, I guess I'll try coming back and recording me playing stuff? But this means so, so much to me."

Mitch ran up, pausing the recording. He obviously knew that I had nothing more to say. It was awkward trying to say something after so long of not showing up in public except for the occasional Hunger Games. Even then, those were small little local games.

"You did well. I'm just gonna…" He paused to click a button on the mouse. "Click that button and post it!"

"But Mitch, what if nothing happens. What if they hate me." Jerome spoke, as his left hand extended to hit to wall in frustration. "What if it's all for nothing." His voice was reduced to a mere whisper now, and Mitch frowned at how negative Jerome was being.

Mitch himself didn't know if it would work. There probably weren't enough people on the streets of Minecraftia that were fans of the fun-loving bacca to protect the forest now. "I-I really don't know what's going to happen."

The treehouse had been such an important part of their friendship, back in the early days. They always hang out here, whether it was to vent about how annoying one of the people in their old gang (Which soon became known as Team Crafted) was being, to talk about a girl that had caught their eyes, or even just to have a bit of quite time to work on something together.

"I guess the only thing I can do is hope." Jerome said, his voice rising to try to sound a bit optimistic.

* * *

Two days later, Jerome was slumped up on the wall outside of Mitch's house, silent tear tracks trailing down his face. Soon Mitch walked out, planning to walk to a store for some groceries. When he felt a tug on his jeans, Mitch froze, looking out towards the horizon, where an abundance of trees resided.

"It didn't work, Jerome. It didn't work." The words came out slightly strangled.

"Can I stay at your house…?" Jerome said, wiping away the tears.

"Sure biggums. Sure."

* * *

**I. I have no words. That didn't come out the way it was supposed to. Gosh, now I'm all sad ;-;**

**Also, the character from the last one-shot was TheFearRaiser.**


	10. Beautiful Disguise

**Based on Beautiful Disguise by Picture Me Broken**

**Warning: Murder which is a tad bit brutal? Okay, more than a tad bit ;3;**

* * *

_Who's behind the painted face_

_The broken child that you can't erase_

It wasn't like Bodil wanted to hide it. He honestly would rather embrace it, rather than tuck it away with various methods.

It was Ethan who had found himself bleeding from the wrists by some cruel and very crudely done crucifixion. It was also him who attempted to wordlessly scream at Bodil for release.

Somehow, the message got through to him. But that was after the end of 3 days of Ethan lifelessly hanging from the door or his room, when he had not a single breath left in him.

_A sip to hush the sorrow_

_Heart as empty as your bottle_

The message? Simply to hide his real self, at least until the time was right. Get himself established, make it all the more fun. See the looks of betrayal and disbelief crossing their face, just seconds before the last act that would end it all for them happened.

Though he never honestly knew how that came from the death of the mysterious voiceless boy he had found roaming the streets one night. Not like anyone needed that boy. Those who knew him would come to forget, never bother to think about what happened to him in the end. Maybe give a little search before giving it up. Bodil grinned.

When he was coming back, it would be with a big bang. And if they found him? So be it. His execution would probably be the most despair-filled death of centuries.

_The last you felt something_

_From the one who left you bleeding_

He was heartless and cruel, but everyone soon began to see him as the fun-loving person who spread laughs and harmless exploding minecarts to the world. He somehow met a friend of the last person he'd murdered all those years ago. _Sky._ He thought. _Along with a whole group of people who had some standing in the world._

Somehow, he himself had gained from what they themselves once had to find, and saw himself slowly rising the ranks. It definitely wasn't what he had planned, but he could merely build around it. There was hardly any consequence when he finally went back to himself. Maybe it would serve to disguise him longer, and give him more time to do what he had loved.

_I know how you feel alone,_

_Lost in a thousand people_

There were nights Bodil was left alone with himself and a knife, shrill laughter similar but very unlike what everyone heard echoing through the lonely halls of his apartment. He had to do something to channel all that nervous energy he gained from not doing something.

He couldn't blow it yet. It had to be perfect, because he had only a few opportunities to do it.

Bodil realized that he was slowly starting to grow fond of his new friends/victims. _No matter_, he thought, _it would all pass once I stop holding back. It would all blow over._

_You look so perfect in disguise_

_I know you're broken up inside tonight..._

Bodil smiled, bowing down slightly and motioning the first group to arrive, who preferred being referred to as Team Crafted. They of course brought their special people with them, as the event was meant to have a little bit of time for the couples.

He relaxed when he felt a pale-skinned boy swing an arm around his shoulder. They boy tightened his signature scarf around his neck and gave Bodil a crooked grin. "Quite the thing you got together? What's the occasion?"

"Ah, Baki. Just a little thing I tossed together. You know me, always wanting a bit of fun." Bodil awkwardly wiggled out of Baki's grip around his shoulders, and nudged up the sunglasses on his nose. "Why don't you just pop on in, Simon's been standing there with his minePhone for the past few minutes.

Baki straightened up immediately, quickly tugging in Simon to see if there was still any snacks left inside. Likely not, though, considering the first few people that entered the party were quite heavy eaters.

_I want everything that lies behind_

_Your beautiful disguise tonight_

Nobody would ever figure out what would happen only a day later. People disappearing from everywhere, and nobody having a clue why. Simple, but it had quite a chance.

No one would expect it.

Bodil was sympathetic person, though, to some extent. Well, aside from having a history and future as a psychopathic killer. He would allow the people the all have time to chatter among themselves, spend their last few moments together.

A glimmer of purple caught Bodil's eyes, and he looked up, smiling at Ashley. "Just you by yourself?" He inquired.

"Yup, all of the people I know in this friend group are here in their own little groups, I'm fairly sure."

"Well, why don't you just head on in?"

_Medicate yourself and hide_

_To give them all a show tonight_

_Disguise, disguise, disguise…_

And so the people attending slowly dispersed, after realizing it was more formal then they expected.

Well, they were asked to dress in their best attire. They should have expected it.

Less time for them to spend the time with those they cherished, more time for the others who would be spared to mourn. Bodil honestly thought that living with the murder of so many friends would be worse than dying. He had a few particular individuals he would leave alive. Either way, if he didn't do it, he knew he would get caught for being the only one alive out of his 'friend circles'.

_I'll breathe in off your sorrow,_

_Fill your empty space so hollow._

_Remove the mask, is all I ask_

_And I will always follow_

"B-bodil?" A voice shakily said. "What are you doing?"

Bodil took the screwdriver clenched between his teeth, and pointed it at Ashley. "So oblivious." He grinned. "And that's why you're the first to go. Quite a nice choice, really. Take out the ones I have a grudge on first."

"Bodil, that's a knife in your hand. A knife and a…Screwdriver. Let me say it again, what are you doing?" Ashley spoke with more confidence, convinced that something was screwing with his head.

"Ah, just something I would've done, could've done long ago."

_You look so perfect in disguise_

_I know you're broken up inside tonight…_

For a moment, it felt so right, seeing his piece of artwork. So right. Soon, it turned to dread, and it no longer felt how it had all those years ago. What had he done to the girl who once brought so much happiness to him, despite the fact he knew he wasn't supposed to be attached. What had he done, why had he done it? The answer came to him soon. _Because I could._

All those years ago when he experienced the glee of taking away someone's life, before they even realized what was going on, for the first time. Of running away from sort of official group, and seeing them stumped of who the culprit was. Of knowing he could bring judgement upon certain wrongdoers, something no authority ever seemed comfortable to do.

_ It's only make believe,_

_But I believe it, I believe it_

Why he did if the first time, he never knew. There was always something about the whole act of murder, and seeing people frantically trying to find the culprit that pleased him, and his imagination must've ended up taking him along the path that he had strayed off. A path that he had now come back to.

It was endless what you could do with a body of any creature. Ridiculously endless. Something simple, like using a knife? Doable. Pushing someone off a bridge in the coldest reaches of Minecraftia? people in a mansion and screwing with their minds so they killed each other? Tough, but doable. Death was such a strict concept, you did something and you would be gone, but how it came about was quite a malleable idea.

Possibly his most favorite quality of it all.

_You're only make believe_

_But I believe in you…_

And it was thinking of the joy of it all that gave him the drive to continue on.

That night, insane and gleeful shrieks of laughter filled the streets, and headlines of the murders of the well-known filled the TV. Lives were lost, families wept, and most of all, everyone feared for their lives.

* * *

**Am I the only one who kinda ships Ashdil? ;3; Just a wittle bit. Also, Dangan Ronpa reference anyone? There were two.**

**Oh god, but the tenses are so screwed up here. One day I'll go back and be "INCORRECT! BEGIN REWRITE." Re-reading this, it's actually pretty bad ;3; Oh, and there are so many linebreaks, couldn't figure how else to do that .-.**

**Also, so sorry for dat ;3; Kinda. I really wanted to do it. My first songfic, btw, other then the one I wrote based on a parody of a song? I was gonna save this song for a Leo Valdez one-shot (Heroes of Olympus series) but I don't really write for that much anyway. It fits better with Leo.**


	11. Reincarnate

Jordan held up a hand to his face, eyes stretched wide as he felt hot sticky blood. His hand slowly glided to the right, and he felt the familiar touch of cool metal. "It's been so long since I last…" He whispered, shaking his head. He knew that he would have been fated with having to do it again, eventually, and didn't even bother to finish his statement.

"But I just don't get it. What are you going on about?" The figure looming over him said, smirking at him, with Jordan cowering at his feet. Jordan's usual leather jacket lay torn into little shreds, ripped apart by the angel trying to end Jordan's life.

He honestly wasn't sure how he managed to get into his current predicament. Perhaps it was because he had questioned why the angel had one black wing, and one white one, as well as a dull-colored halo. Of course, he forgot that he wasn't supposed to be able to see the angels, and in turn, he had been sought out by that angel, because Jordan apparently wasn't supposed to be able to see him.

"One day I'll see you again, long past after this body has rotten, rotten even with this metal." Jordan stated simply, adjusting the red tie that had managed not to be ripped along with his jacket.

John scratched his head in confusion. "What? That makes no sense, though."

"Why don't you just answer me, Mr. Angel."

The angel grimaced deciding to at least answer him due to the fact that he was probably going to die soon. "It's John, not Mr. Angel." He paused thinking about what to say. "I was deemed worthy enough to be an angel. One of your kind disrupted the process, trapped me in this state of agony." He spat out the last few parts. "It hurts more than you think…"

Jordan felt pity for the half-angel (which was probably the best term for the odd case), before he remembered the fact that John would probably also be the cause of him leaving the body he had loved for so long.

"I'm more than just a cyborg." Jordan said nonchalantly, swiping his slightly green hair to the side.

"Oh?" John said, even though he saw Jordan as nothing but trouble.

To be honest—Jordan had never been so settled in a body. It was always him dying mere months after his next regeneration, sometimes even seconds. Sure, he didn't get the best life in his current form due to segregation of races, but he lasted long, and built many connections.

Miri the builder, who was seen as cruel but had a heart of gold. Sun the tamer, caring for all animals she could find. Tom, an amusing character that was once considered evil, redeeming himself to be a popular part of normal society. So, so, so many more people he knew, that he had so much fun with.

So who was he? Jordan, the cyborg who had a ridiculous knack with building, or Jordan, one of a long gone species that reincarnated on the occasion of his death?

"It's complicated." He said, his eyes beginning to scan the area for an exit out of the dark alleyway. All he could see were boxes in all directions, and he'd been blessed with the 'gifts' of a klutz, definitely not allowing him any kind of exit.

Jordan sighed, prepared for his death to come on. "Go ahead. See if I care." For a second, an expression of confusion flickered over John's face, before quickly being replaced with a look of triumph.

"You couldn't possibly want to die given how you've been fighting so far, but okay."

Jordan shrugged, before looking up at John with a fierce gaze. "What kind of cruel angel kills because of a personal grudge, half of one or not?"

"One merely seeking for justice." John kicked him in the head on the side of his face that wasn't covered by metal, and Jordan gasped in shock, before his body automatically relaxed, ready to give up.

Jordan's vision began to be streaked with random stripes of a single shade of color before all he saw was just that. White.

Swimming. He felt like he was swimming between the gaps of five dimensions, as he pushed through the air surrounding him. It was becoming increasingly hard for him to reach for the small dot of black, seeming to be engulfed by white. The matter around him was like syrup, thick and almost unmoving.

He had to get there. Motivation to drive forward, it was the only thing that would allow him to continue on living, albeit in a different body. Jordan had been through this process so many times, but it felt like it got even more difficult every single time.

At last, he had managed to get to his final destination, sighing in relief and collapsing on the soft leaves beneath him.

_Leaves?_ He thought, before opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings. A jungle, filled with a tangle of leaves and trees stretching towards the sky in every direction visible. Jordan tapped something on his face, curious as to why the world was in a lovely tint of red, looking a tad bit like blood. He kind of didn't want vampire vision this time, last time that happened he burned in the desert he managed to spawn into.

Luckily for him, it was merely a pair of shades mounted on his nose. He took this moment to see what he looked like, as he crawled on to his knees, making his way towards a pool of water he could see shimmering.

Jacket. Sweat things. Facial hair. He lay down on the dirt, sighing. What was he going to do first, as the jungle he was in seemed to be separated from most of civilization.

_I really don't know, do I?_ He hummed, thinking about what he could do.

* * *

**John is a random character. Well, a friend I made into a character just because…Don't tell 'em ;D And this Jordan is…The Jordan with the Usher skin, the sparkly one? Sheesh. Also, the character design for Jordan before reincarnation is my current MC skin. So what if I'm a girl with a boy skin ;-; I like it. Where did the idea for this one-shot**


	12. Don't Mess With Me

**Based on 'Don't Mess With Me' by Temposhark. Also, I ended up using him again, hehe.**

* * *

As he glimpsed the sight of some of his soldiers surrounding an individual, Jordan immediately relaxed on his throne, giving a grin. His plan was working just swimmingly, wasn't it?

Ah, but did they ever realize he was playing them like puppets? It wasn't like it mattered, in any case. All that mattered was that he was the one in power, now.

* * *

_How it all began if truth be told_

_Had a master plan, now I rule the world_

His little path to kingship was quite an interesting one. It all started in a little guild. He had been hunting to prove that worth, hadn't he? It was so long ago, Jordan couldn't quite remember.

Whatever it was, it wasn't fast enough for him. He was ambitious, he wanted power. So he simply changed his mindset of hunting monsters to brutally murdering those in positions of power, from all over the empire that the smaller guild was in.

_Took 'em by surprise_

_Worked my way uphill_

They saw the man with the high reputation amongst hunter as one of the only strong links in the empire, now tossed into chaos with the loss of the only leaders.

No one knew who did it, but finally the murders quieted down, and slowly stopped until the empire had little to no authority governing them. At least, murders of the royal ranks. Crime sprouted through the kingdom, and finally the people resolved to find themselves a new leader, one to keep them stabilized, one could bring the kingdom to its original prosperity.

_They looked into my eyes_

_I became invincible_

So he merely stepped up, and the citizens that hadn't been corrupt by the state of the kingdom looked up to him, admired him. And it was the trust of the people that brought him forward.

They saw strength in his eyes, the need to bring the old kingdom back. What they would never know was that he was the one responsible for it all. Jordan didn't really care that he deceived all his people, after all it wasn't his fault they were so oblivious to what was really going on.

If anyone ever did manage to figure it out, it was as simple as an execution for something silly. Murder, robbery, arson, anything of the sort that would make the crowd feel it right that the person in question would die.

* * *

_No one can stop me, for only I am in control_

_If you want me, you better contact my people_

Jordan strode onto the one elevated area, his burgundy robe flowing behind him. He turned towards the many people in the clearing, positioned in the formation of a grid.

They all kneeled in in a single almost completely syncronized motion. It wasn't out of fear, however. Rather, it was out of respect.

Sure, to the people, Jordan had a cruel side, but it was similar to that of any king.

They were his military, they came to fight for their kingdom out of their own will. Were they given a choice to? Indeed, and those who said yes were giving great benefits.

It was a wonderful system, kept the kingdom together. It meant that they were doing it willingly, a strong advantage to have when in war.

_In my crown, I am king, I love their endless worshipping_

_I am raw, a dinosaur, but I will never be extinct_

It had been three years since his initial climb to power. Three years of prosperity, three years of peace, three years of everything good. Jordan was the one. He was the ruler that would bring the kingdom back to its old self, and then some.

But that day, they would see a different side of him. The one that was still ambitious, power-hungry, irrational, and most of all, paranoid. Paranoid of what? Paranoid of the fact that one day, he would no longer rule. That he would be overthrown, assassinated, forgotten, anything that would pull him out of his reign.

"I have brought you all here for a reason." Jordan spoke loud and clear, his hands folded behind his back. His fierce gaze swept the crowd, waiting for a reaction. Nothing.

"The elimination of magic." He could hear small whispers being exchanged between people, though they were quickly silenced. "For this kingdom can never truly be strong with such a contamination, imbalance in an otherwise unified place."

That really wasn't the actual reason. True, it was an imbalance. But it wasn't that Jordan wanted unification of the kingdom, it was that he wanted

"And so I propose to you a small demand." He continued on, his message still echoing strong and clear.

"And that, my people, is the execution of all magic users."

_So don't mess with me, I'll shoot you down_

_Don't mess with me…_

"Either way, these beings are not natural, they should have never existed in the first place." It was important that he swayed his military in just the right way.

He had never used them against the kingdom, only ever for conquering other territories. Even if the magic population made up the slightest percent of the overall people, Jordan would be surprised if there were some who weren't hesitant.

Jordan narrowed his eyes at a face breaking into a mix of emotions. The person had on the standard armor, but at that meeting, helmets weren't required. And exactly for this reason. Good thing that people naturally didn't like to wear uniforms.

The man had his hair held up by a simple white headband, with a single purple feather sticking out of it. Interesting accessory choice.

He noticed the soldier next to him whisper something to 'feather boy', and their face relaxed.

Jordan gave a malicious grin, and knew exactly how to start off his people with the task.

_I've come, it's been fun, but won't you please disappear_

_Something tells me that you can't further my career_

"First of all." He pointed his finger limply at the man that was sure to be able to use magic. Who cared if they were a sorcerer, wizard, mage, etc., they all decreased his chance of staying in power. "We start with him."

Jordan gave a small and pleasant smile, as the man's face turned panic-stricken. He swore he could see the soldier repeatedly whispering no to himself. Jordan was quite amused at his friend's reaction, as they backed away, trying to get away from the swarm of knights surrounding that one person.

Talk about being loyal. _As if_, Jordan thought, scoffing. It wasn't his business if the man with the feather in his hair died now, being witnessed by many. It would probably be quite brutal, too. Either way, he would be found and killed some day.

_'Cause all your heads are gonna roll_

_I've made your misery my goal_

And that was just what happened. He was killed on the spot, soldiers shouting at him for being a magical user. Jordan knew it wasn't really the man's fault if he could use magic or not, but he just couldn't take the risk of being overthrown.

* * *

_So if you want survival, kneel on my arrival_

_For this is how I rule the world_

Ah, but he would be in power for so much longer with this new advancement. He couldn't be having someone going along the same path as he did, could he?

This way he could turn 3 years into 30 years. So much ambition hidden in a single person, and no one would ever notice it.

Jordan gave a faint smile, holding out his hand in preparation for the crown that was currently levitating towards his hand.

* * *

**If you've ever heard the song, you'll notice that I quite blatantly cut out a part of the lyrics, for obvious reasons.**

**By the way, the person executed was Seto, if you couldn't tell ^~^ Urgh, so hard to find a different word than 'man'. If you didn't get that little part to the end, it's referencing that Jordan is a sorcerer/wizard/whatever…Sooo not based on some of AutumnRayn's animations, if you know who that is. A Wattpadian.**

**Also, exactly 245 words away from 50k words on this FF account. Well then.**


End file.
